


Stalked By An Angel

by distantstarlight



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Jealous Sherlock, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Possessive Sherlock, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 19:45:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2037678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantstarlight/pseuds/distantstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson is a brave loyal soldier who may have bitten off more than he can chew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stalked By An Angel

 Thanks to milfiepumpkin for permission to use their graphic which completely inspired this fic.

<http://milfiepumpkin.tumblr.com/post/85825737683/just-a-doodle-practising-a-little-bit-with>

 

They hadn’t been ‘more than friends’ for more than a week and they were already having problems. John was exasperated and trying not to show it to the most perceptive man on the planet. Instead John made weak excuses and fled the flat.

Sherlock followed him.

Okay he did it discretely and if John didn’t know Sherlock so well he never would have spotted him but he did so he did. The taller man had at least taken the precaution of removing his coat which was very recognizable even from a distance but John knew Sherlock better than any other living person. Sighing deeply John tried to ignore Sherlock and just enjoyed his walk.

John really didn’t know what to do at this point, after all, he was the one who had breached the barriers between them and asked Sherlock to be his boyfriend. Sherlock had been deliciously bashful and pleased, agreeing with the smallest of delighted smiles. John had been so happy. That had been the first day.

Of course John hadn’t really thought about what it would be like to date the world’s only consulting detective/high-functioning sociopath (though clearly he wasn’t a sociopath, he had feelings). Somehow John had envisioned something like their old relationship, one where Sherlock solved cases and John helped with maybe some sex on the side but otherwise everything would be just as it used to be.

Sherlock had some strange ideas about what dating was actually all about and John was beginning to regret ever breaking down and asking him out in the first place. Maybe it would have been better to remain just friends.

Sherlock was back from the dead, John was blissfully divorced, all their enemies were dead and Mycroft had taken Lestrade away on a honeymoon. Mrs. Hudson was happily dating yet another shopkeeper and was considering retiring someplace slightly warmer with Mrs. Turner. Life had seemed so sweet and John decided to tell Sherlock how he had cared for him so deeply for so long. Sherlock had returned the sentiment, though without using quite so many words, and they’d begun to date.

Seven days later John wanted to leave the country and would have if he didn’t know for certain that Sherlock would be able to find him with almost pitiful ease. John now understood why Mycroft found his minor position in the government to be so very comfortable, the Holmes’ were stalkers!

Not that it was horrible, John told himself. It was just a bit…overwhelming. That was the word that he found himself using in his inner monologue the most. John had been friends with Sherlock for a long time, pining for him from afar so to speak, but now that the distance had been closed John wanted to run as far as he could in the opposite direction! Sherlock was so intense! John didn’t know how to handle it.

John walked and mused while his sweetheart trailed a block behind him as if tied on a string. For all the time John had known Sherlock the man had never been comfortable with any kind of physical displays of even friendship. Now that he and John were an item (Sherlock had put an announcement in all the papers as well as on John’s blog to tell everyone this) the gates for PDA had been flung wide and it was open season on retired army doctors for every mad scientist on Baker Street.

If John had thought living with Sherlock _before_ they’d gotten together was challenging then he had not thought long enough about _who_ it was he had fallen in love with, and John could not deny that he was one hundred percent in love with Sherlock, even right now when he wanted to turn around and give his sweetie a pop in the eye. Sherlock was completely head over heels for John, and that was a fact that could no longer be denied or disputed.

Sherlock had spent the last several days doing nothing but demonstrating his newly declared feelings in every way he could think of and he could think of a lot. He was a genius, an unparalleled and brilliant man with more education under his belt than several people combined. The second day had overwhelmed John with the sheer romance Sherlock had been able to procure almost out of thin air.

Sherlock was also a virgin, standoffish and as prudish in many ways as the most rigid Victorian maiden. John thought that was beautiful and sweet, precious and delightful. Sherlock surprised John with breakfast in bed, followed with a long sweet cuddle and some bashful kisses. A walk in the park followed before a cold-packed picnic in yet a different park, silly little gifts bought from street displays were exchanged, and then a long drawn-out dinner at Angelo’s (where else?) before the evening concluded with a bottle of wine and more heart-achingly sweet kisses. Sherlock had been brave enough then to trail his fingers along John’s jaw but immediately fled and hid in his room for the rest of the night.

Or so John thought.

The doctor put his overly-excited self to bed, falling asleep happily, his dreams laced with ephemeral hearts and flowers. He was quite, quite overwhelmed. He was even more overwhelmed when he woke two hours before his shift at the clinic to find Sherlock perched at the end of his bed like a rumpled angel, all smiles and ruffled curls. John had grinned and Sherlock had come over for some early morning kisses before providing John with yet another breakfast in bed. John was entirely charmed.

Breakfast consumed, tea finished and then it was definitely John’s turn in the loo. He could see Sherlock’s feet making shadows at the bottom of the door. Sherlock was waiting right outside while John was in the loo! “Sherlock do you mind?”

“No.”

“Sherlock, I just need a few minutes, I’ll be back out as soon as I’ve showered.”

“Alright.”

He didn’t move and John really couldn’t wait. Awkward or not John did what he had to and moved on with his day. It felt a bit strange undressing when he knew Sherlock was still standing on the other side of the door, but showering in front of him wasn’t quite as weird as, well, _other things_ , so John washed up thoroughly and pulled his robe on tight after. He shaved with military efficiency and pulled the door open.  Sherlock was standing not two inches from him, “We were apart for seventeen minutes. I don’t like that.”

Seventeen minutes? Sherlock was timing how long John was in the loo? “Sherlock, please. Tell me you’re not experimenting on me again!”

Sherlock looked hurt and offended. “Never, I promised John and I would never break my promise!” John heaved a sigh of relief and began to walk to his room to dress, “I’m taking notes for my comprehensive review of all your biological functions. I got some very interesting data last night about your circadian cycle. I should have recorded it; I want to measure the frequency of your eye movements.”

John stopped, “You watched me sleep?”

“Well not all night. I woke up at about two and simply made the best use of my time.”

Okay John felt weird about that but it was such a Sherlock thing to do he made the worst mistake ever and said, “Oh, well that’s alright.”

“Really?” Sherlock was pressing his lips together trying to restrain an obviously jubilant smile so contagious that John nodded vigorously and made the second worst mistake ever.

“Anything you want Sherlock, anything at all.”

That pretty much sealed the deal on the arrangement to deprive John Watson of any privacy of any sort ever. _Ever_.

It really can’t be said enough.

That was the third day and from then on Sherlock’s attentions escalated. John didn’t even know how it was possible. John was walked to the curb where Sherlock procured a taxi for him, paying the driver in advance so John needn’t bother, straightening John’s tie, which he normally didn’t even wear and sent him off with another nearly chaste kiss. The driver had been amused, “Your missus is old-fashioned.” John glared at the smirking man who was smart enough to say nothing further.

Sherlock showed up during John’s first coffee break with a thermos of a special blend that was divine.

He showed up for lunch with take-away from a little bistro that John had enjoyed very much, the small soup and sandwich combination just enough to get him through the day without feeling sluggish.

Sherlock showed up at his afternoon coffee break too, this time with a cup of something fragrant and herbal that was actually very delicious and apparently caffeine free. “You get agitated if you have coffee late in the afternoon.” reported Sherlock. John nodded, he did.

Sherlock showed up again just as John was finished, neatly cutting in before John had a chance to say goodnight to the nurses like he normally did, but instead hurrying the doctor away on a case that Sherlock solved in only ninety minutes, just in time to escort John to supper at a wonderful pub.

It wasn’t bad. It was just…a lot.

Sherlock didn’t leave John’s side for any reason after that. The only place John managed any kind of time alone was when he needed the bathroom and even that required compromise because John no longer showered unobserved. Sherlock stood there, not looking but inside their small bathroom, his back graciously turned as he patiently waited for John to finish.

John was frustrated almost immediately. He hadn’t wanked in days and Sherlock had made not one move toward advancing their private moments to anything steamier than some open-mouthed kisses and the one time he let John caress his firm behind for only a minute before blushing and stopping him. Sherlock watched John all the time so he couldn’t even fit in a fast and dirty wank in bed! Sherlock could live on practically no sleep but John could not and whenever he was awake, Sherlock was there.

Sherlock started sleeping with John. He didn’t go to bed with the doctor, but John was now waking up with his not-yet-lover entwined about him, trapping him on the bed in a tangle of wiry arms and legs. John could barely move most of the time which seemed to be Sherlock’s intention. “Honey I need to go to the bathroom.”

Sherlock’s voice was deep and sleep-rough, “Pet names. Delightful.” he let John go and followed him down to the bathroom, standing right outside the door as was now his habit. John was feeling very, very frustrated. Once he relieved himself he could once again feel the growing sense of anxiety that came with the inability to release! John needed to wank, urgently.

“Honey I’m taking a shower, can you run down to Speedy’s and pick up breakfast? I don’t feel like cooking.” John’s cock was already hardening on its own, eager and demanding.

“I’ll go as soon as you’re done.” said Sherlock agreeably, his back turned so John could have what little privacy Sherlock afforded him. John bit his lip in frustration and tried to ignore his only slightly flagging erection which gamely tried to convince him that a sneaky wank could still be had.

John washed and nearly groaned with pleasure as the warm water cascaded down his tense and now anxiety filled body. His cock reveled in the sensation, reaching like a growing vine to play in the water with its owner. John silently scolded it and gradually turned the hot water off until it went away and he could get out of the stall in front of Sherlock who was now facing him, his eyes demurely closed but holding out a large fluffy towel. It was new. Sherlock must have gotten it for John’s showers.

John went to work with an ache between his thighs and an ever-shortening temper. He briefly considered wanking at work but shuddered with horror at the thought of being caught by one of the nurses, the other doctors or even worse, one of the patients! He went without and made it through the day without developing a full erection and sighed with relief by the time he was escorted home by Sherlock.

_Oh god Sherlock._

The way he dressed was becoming a real issue for John. Sherlock’s shirt and trousers were well tailored and John simply did not know how the man moved or breathed! The doctor stifled a groan of pure want when Sherlock tucked him under his arm to walk John home, chattering about this and that, none of which John took in because the scent! Oh fucking hell did Sherlock smell good! John bit back another moan and worried for his penis which was showing an interest all over again.

Dinner was waiting for them on Baker Street. It was delicious and still somehow hot, Sherlock ate his whole plate and John was hard as stone by the time they were done because Sherlock kept licking his fork. To hide he sat at the table and sipped his tea while Sherlock nattered at him about his day, tidying up and making John a fresh cup of tea. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom.” and right away Sherlock followed John. “Stop!”

“I told you I’m taking notes John.”

“Yeah I know what you told me, I’m telling you I’d like to go to the bathroom without a supervisor!” Sherlock’s face crumpled and John felt like an ass, “I’m sorry honey, I’m just…well, its…”

John couldn’t complain, not when Sherlock’s lip was trembling and his eyes were wide and worried, and he looked just so…Sherlock! _How did he have the power to take John’s free will away?_ “Fine, just…okay let’s go.” Sherlock’s face straightened out and he followed John to the bathroom to wait.

John stroked himself, he couldn’t help it. He bit back a groan, grabbed the hand-towel and covered his mouth, stroking just a bit, just to take the edge off. Oh it felt so good. Sherlock knocked, “John you’ve already been in there two minutes longer than usual. Are you alright? Do you need assistance?” The knob was turning. John yanked up his pants, flushed the toilet and was washing his hands as Sherlock pushed his way in.

“I’m fine, just got lost in thought there for a minute,” Yes, thoughts about Sherlock’s long legs, and his flat belly, that double-handful of bum, and everything else. John’s cock tried to make itself known, “Maybe we should have a bit of a talk.”

“Of course John,” Sherlock waited for John to wash his hands and followed him to the front room.

John sat Sherlock down and then found he had nothing to say. How was he supposed to tell Sherlock to back off without hurting his feelings? It just wasn’t possible. Sherlock would be devastated at the mere idea but John was getting desperate, “It’s about sex.”

Sherlock looked alarmed.

“I don’t mean we’re going to have some right this second, I just want to know what your plans are.” Sherlock relaxed a miniscule amount but he looked like a deer caught in the headlights still and he was a brilliant red, “Sherlock?”

“I…well…I.” Sherlock got up and actually ran away. He simply stood, snatched up his Belstaff and fled the flat. John sat there, amazed but not idle for long. Locking himself into the bathroom and kneeling on a towel John stifled his groans as best he could while he anxiously wanked as quickly as he could. His eyes rolled back when he finally came and he nearly fell forward into his own mess but at least he’d gotten a modicum of release. John cleaned himself up; able to think a bit clearer now, enough to realize that while the pressure was gone his desire for Sherlock had only increased.

That had been the end of the sixth day because Sherlock didn’t come back until John was fast asleep. He woke the next morning with Sherlock wrapped all around him again, a raging erection stabbing the taller man in the belly, and very little patience, “Sherlock, honey? I’ve got to use the loo.”

Sherlock had been snoring but jerked awake and rolled away, his arm grazing right across John’s erection which made the detective gasp in shock and John groan deeply with pleasure. Sherlock leaped right out of the bed, now wide awake and blushing furiously, “Um.” was all he said before Sherlock practically evaporated on the spot, only the sound of his bare feet on the stairs to tell John he hadn’t been seeing a ghost. Sherlock’s bedroom door slammed hard shut and John just went to the loo to take care of his latest erection in the shower unobserved.

Sherlock stayed hidden so John just got himself ready to go to St. Bart’s where he’d promised Molly some time to go through the files that Sherlock had made her pull and then lost interest in. John called out but Sherlock didn’t say farewell so John just shook his head and left, wondering if Sherlock was finally over this phase of their new romance. He wasn’t.

Instead of just coming with John Sherlock had tailed him. This irritated John because by the time John made it to the morgue he’d said hello to about twenty different people and Sherlock was scowling. Was the huge git _jealous_? That was just ridiculous! John was tempted to lock the morgue entrance behind him but Sherlock could pick that lock faster than you’d believe. Instead he focused on Molly who was more nervous than usual, “Um…John? I think Sherlock is spying on us.”

“He is. Ignore him. This is the most peace I’ve had since we got together.” Sherlock’s face was unsubtly framed in the small square window of the morgue doors, his scowl now set to maximum.

Molly stared at John, her mouth opening and closing as her face paled. When she managed to close it she opened up again, “You two….”

“Yeah, last week.” said John quickly. He wasn’t prepared for Molly to burst into miserable tears, “Oh! Molly! That was inconsiderate. I should have done that differently.” Sherlock had distracted John enough to make him forget that he’d planned to ease the lovelorn Molly toward a conversation that would gently break the news to her that John had found out for certain that Sherlock was gay, that John had snapped him up the second that was confirmed, and that her crush of more years than John’s would forever be unrequited. He hugged her and felt terrible.

Sherlock burst in, “ _Get off of him! He’s not yours! He’s mine! Stop touching him!”_ Sherlock was actually angry and Molly cried even harder before running away sobbing.

John looked at Sherlock in a state of rather stunned anger, “Sherlock! She wasn’t hitting on me. Molly is rather upset because I just told her we’re together.”

“So your first instinct was to rub yourself on her? How comforting John!” Sherlock was in high temper, and though he looked ravishing with bright spots of angry red in his cheeks that really brought out the snap in his eyes, John was not impressed.

“You know what Sherlock? Molly is a good friend of ours and both of us have managed to stomp rather hard on her feelings. I did it _accidentally_ but you did it entirely _on purpose_. I’m going to go find Molly, take her somewhere so she can collect herself and apologize.”

Sherlock was the one who looked devastated now, “So that’s it? She cries and that’s _it_ between us?”

“What in the world are you talking about Sherlock? I’m going to go apologize to Molly not elope with her.”

“ _So you’ve thought about it!_ ” said Sherlock with a large amount of drama. He looked pale and he brought a long fingered hand up to cover his mouth in horror.

John snapped impatiently, “Have you been watching those afternoon shows with Mrs. Hudson again? I’ve told you again and again those stories are not real. It would take more than a teary face to make me decide to break up with you Sherlock, and I would hope that I would be honorable enough to tell you first! Now excuse me, I have to go find Molly.” Suddenly John had all six feet of consulting detective wrapped around him as Sherlock clung hard.

John staggered a bit at the unexpected weight and Sherlock gasped as if rejected, “You are choosing her distress over mine!” he declared and let go, nearly dropping to the floor as John rolled his eyes and covered his face with his hands. When he took them away Sherlock looked stunned and horrified still so John counted to ten, reached out his hand and tangled his fingers with Sherlock’s, “Come with me then, we’ll apologize together.”

For someone as amazingly brilliant as Sherlock it was difficult to believe his lack of knowledge when it came to matters of the heart. From the look on his face John would swear Sherlock was being led to the gallows, “I’m not sorry.”

“I know you’re not sorry but we’re going to find Molly and try to make her feel better anyway.” John knew better than to try and convince Sherlock to feel empathy for anyone. Still he could at least act like he wasn’t a five-year-old!

Sherlock dragged his feet, “You weren’t flirting with her?” he asked, sounding dubious.

“No of course I wasn’t flirting with her! Sherlock, have I ever shown romantic interest in Molly?” the mere thought made John feel funny inside. Molly was like a little sister, all stutters and blushes and the only thing John wanted to do with Molly was be there to silently threaten anyone she might actually end up dating just to make sure they treated her nice. He always found her after Sherlock had been particularly trying and over many coffees or hot chocolates had kept Molly from breaking down completely. Today he’d cocked that up as much as possible.

“Of course you have John! You automatically flirt with every female within a ten year range of your age. I’ve done extensive research, I have charts.” John stopped walking.

“Sherlock, charts? What research? Sherlock you said you weren’t experimenting on me!” John was finally beginning to feel raw around the edges. What was Sherlock up to?

“ _Not relevant_ John, the data in question has been gathered meticulously for years now, much of it corresponds to various cases and can be compared to data collected on other people under a variety of parameters. That’s not experimentation, that’s pure research.”  Sherlock looked grave, “I have ample evidence that you prefer to keep your options as open as possible while simultaneously maintaining a degree of monogamy with each partner even if it’s just for the evening. You have no difficulty moving on to the next person. In the time that we’ve met your relationships have never really passed beyond a three week span, with the exception of Mary of course, whom you divorced almost immediately after your sex-holiday.”

Okay, now John was beginning to understand, “You think I’m not in for the long haul.”

Sherlock cocked his head, “Given your past I find it doubtful that I will be able to sufficiently engage your interest for long. I’ve referenced your various break-ups and catalogued them according to rational, duration, level of post-break-up acrimony, as well as the amount of time between relationships.”

John stared at Sherlock and then shook his head, “Right. So you gathered your data and came to this conclusion based on observable, provable facts. I see that. What you’re forgetting is the major contributing factor to my dismal romantic history!”

Sherlock looked confused, “I’m certain I have all the relevant factors John. I checked quite carefully.”

John just shook his head again and stepped closer to his too-new-boyfriend, “The bit that you forgot, the thing that made it impossible for me to succeed with anyone for long, the whole reason I got divorced, the one factor that you for some reason did not include is _you_ Sherlock. My feelings for _you_ kept me from ever wanting to be with _anyone_ for long. Before I met _you_ I was in the army, I wasn’t anywhere long enough to develop a real relationship. I’ve been with _you_ longer than any person in the world who isn’t a blood relative.”

Sherlock stood in front of John with the loveliest blush John had ever witnessed. Sherlock was simply enchanting, “Me?”

“You.” said John firmly, “Sherlock I love you.”

“Oh.”

“So?”

“Oh.”

“That’s it?”

“Oh.” Sherlock was stuck.

“Hello?”

“Hi.”

“I said I love you Sherlock.”

“Oh.” Sherlock just stood there, a foolish grin on his face and John laughed softly before pulling his boyfriend tight against him and kissing him firmly, “ _Oh John.”_ Now Sherlock had his arms tight around John and the kiss they shared was filled with blissful union. Sherlock sighed happily when it ended, and pressed his forehead to John’s, “I love you too John, with all my heart.”

John was as radiant as Sherlock after that. They exchanged just one more kiss before finding Molly in the doctor’s lounge. Sherlock apologized for his outburst and gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder. Molly sniffled and congratulated them both a bit stiffly but smiled bravely when John said they’d come back later to help sort out the mess Sherlock had left another time.

Sherlock didn’t exactly relax his constant vigil over John but he did manage to at least resolve one issue. That very same day Sherlock took John back to 221 B, locked them into his bedroom and got John to demonstrate a sizable portion of his practical knowledge on intercourse until neither of them could move a muscle. After sleeping for nearly ten hours after their heated bout Sherlock ravaged John all over again. Sherlock was insatiable now that his fears had been assuaged. From then on when Sherlock got jealous, which was frequently, he learned that John was more than willing to allow Sherlock leave to exorcise his demons through vigorous and stress-relieving sex.

The last of his insecurities were conquered a mere month later. Laying tangled in sweat soaked sheets with John, both men still breathing very hard, Sherlock found it difficult to speak when John presented him with a small velvet box containing a simple seeming titanium band. The outer part of the band had a distinctive lined pattern incised deeply into it and Sherlock gasped with recognition, “That’s your fingerprint.”

“Yes it is. I don’t want there to ever be any confusion over _who_ I belong to. It’s always going to be you Sherlock.” From then on John’s life was filled with love and if not exactly harmony, then at least lots of excitement, sleepless nights, and adrenalin because when you’re married to Sherlock Holmes life is never ever boring or ordinary.

**Author's Note:**

> This is where I got the image from and where you can likely get your own fingerprint ring. Um....probably don't tell them you found their link on a giant Johnlock smut fic.
> 
> http://offbeatbride.com/2010/01/custom-fingerprint-wedding-bands


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